


The Best Seat in the House

by ignobility (nxrcissa)



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, Always Female Merlin, Arthur Knows About Merlin's Magic (Merlin), Cock Warming, Established Relationship, F/M, Female Merlin (Merlin), GIRLIN, Minor Violence, POV Original Character, POV Outsider, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex, Vaginal Sex, listen why dont we tag fem merlin as girlin, only for a little
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2020-08-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:02:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26125444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nxrcissa/pseuds/ignobility
Summary: The assassin readied her knives and pushed the door open silently, just enough so she could see more.The prince sat at his desk, head bowed over some parchment. And sitting in his lap was a lithe raven-haired woman, utterly naked and curled around the prince as if she could not bear even the slightest distance between them.Suffice to say, she was eager to finish the job and get home to Deorwine.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 30
Kudos: 494





	The Best Seat in the House

The assassin crept through the halls, smug and disappointed both at how easy it had been to infiltrate Camelot’s castle. Unlike most of Camelot’s adversaries, the assassin had no real quarrel with Uther or the law. The ban on sorcery was rather barbaric, but it made her job so much easier. No, the assassin didn’t concern herself with personal vendettas - it was bad for business. She’d do it for the gold the pretty black haired witch was paying her, and perhaps for a night in her bed.

All of the guards had been pitifully easy to distract or simply slip by, though she’d had to knock out a couple of knights on the way who had been annoyingly perceptive. The big one had even seen through her cover of being a kitchen maid, claiming he’d never seen her before. As if a  _ knight _ knew all of the kitchen staff. What kind of knights did Camelot keep, anyway? The assassin hadn’t thought Uther was the kind of king whose court fraternised with the lower class. 

It was no matter, anyway. She was the most skilled assassin in the continent, in her opinion. She could have killed them both with one blow, but she couldn’t risk someone raising the alarm before she got to the prince’s quarters. It would be quite the shock for them when they woke up and their prince was dead. A sharp grin grew on her face.

Keeping the pace of a seasoned but unassuming serving girl, the assassin strode around the corner. She went to subtly size up the guards by the prince’s door, but none were there. A sigh left her lips. She had been so looking forward to using those new daggers.

Listening at the door and doing a quick check for traps, the assassin began to grow slightly uneasy. This job was  _ too _ easy. It should not be so easy for a stranger to reach the sole heir of such a large kingdom. She bent down to peer through the keyhole. Just barely, she could see the top of the prince’s head. Gold hair, fair skin, just as the witch had described. 

She didn’t hear or see anything alarming, and the riches the witch had offered would be enough to buy that house by the coast...

The assassin readied her knives and pushed the door open silently, just enough so she could see more.

The prince’s chambers were modest, compared to many of the ostentatious rooms of nobility she’d, ah,  _ visited _ . But the sight before the assassin’s eyes was decidedly immodest.

The prince sat at his desk, head bowed over some parchment. And sitting in his lap was a lithe raven-haired woman, utterly naked and curled around the prince as if she could not bear even the slightest distance between them. They made no sound besides shallow, controlled breaths as the woman bent to hide her face in the crook of his neck. He scratched at the parchment with his quill, ignoring her. The assassin watched curiously for a minute, eyes raking over the slender figure and all her milky skin. 

After a while of stillness, the woman seemed to grow impatient. She writhed, rolling her hips, making a lovely little desperate sound. 

“Merlin,” the prince groaned lowly, his hands abandoning the quill in favour of gripping her hips, “I told you not to move.”

The words sent a bolt of heat through the assassin. It was an appealing idea - she could see herself exposed, stretched open with cock, ordered to be still. She decided she would ask Deorwine about it once she got home. 

The woman, Merlin, laughed breathily, lifting herself up and down, drawing another low sound from the prince. 

“I’ve never been good at obeying orders,” she responded, sultry and teasing at once. The assassin admired the curve of her back as she undulated slowly. The prince chuckled softly, a fond smile curling at the edge of his lips. Idly, the assassin wondered who she was to the prince. She was obviously more than just a bed warmer, but she had not heard of the prince courting. Perhaps a secret lover? A servant? She supposed it didn’t matter, really. The girl would have to die regardless.

“Do you remember when we met?” the prince’s lover breathed, “You asked me if I could walk on my knees.” 

The prince’s hands flexed. With a knowing grin, Merlin bit at the curve of the prince’s ear and continued, “Were you thinking of this, Arthur? On my knees, split open with you inside me?”

The prince made a punched out sound and squeezed her hips, thrusting up into her roughly. She moaned quietly, sweet and genuine, throwing her head back as the prince began to move urgently beneath her. The assassin could not decide if she wanted to be her or bed her. 

“Or perhaps,” Merlin panted, “you imagined fucking my mouth. When you looked at me, did you see my lips stretched around your cock? Did you imagine coming down my throat?”

“Fuck, Merlin,” Prince Arthur moaned, “ _ yes _ . I wanted you. I knew you were mine.”

“Yours,” she repeated reverently. For a moment, they slowed, looking deeply into each other’s eyes. The assassin rolled hers. If they were going to continue with this sappy shit, she might as well kill them now. 

As if he’d read her mind, the prince shifted in his seat and lifted Merlin up high, then slammed her back down violently. Merlin gasped sharply and whined. Her hands clutched at whatever she could reach, one tugging at the prince’s golden hair. He grinned into her cheek and wrapped a large hand around the back of her neck, pounding into her with such force the assassin could see her jerk at the impact. Merlin moved her hips wildly, in time with his rhythm. 

She wondered if she should allow them to finish before she killed them. They would be the most off guard as they were fucking, but she was quite enjoying herself. Merlin made another desperate sound, louder this time, more pleading, and the assassin found herself deciding to wait just so she could hear more of those noises.

The assassin could hear the lewd sound of flesh and the woman’s wetness as they moved together. The woman was letting out soft little  _ ah, ah, ah _ s at every thrust. She seemed to have given up on keeping up, now simply clinging tightly as the prince slammed into her again and again. 

“Arthur,” she begged. He hissed in response, and the assassin imagined that Merlin had tightened around him, gripping him with her walls like she was trying to milk his seed. They shared a passionate, sloppy kiss, only broken when the woman arched her back and keened. She shook atop him, body still rocking as he fucked her through her orgasm. 

“Merlin,” the prince breathed, far too tenderly for a man fucking her so brutally. He picked up the pace, thrusting up into her sharply and rapidly as he neared his completion. Merlin made broken whimpers with every movement, squirming at the overstimulation. Arthur suddenly slammed her down onto his length, keeping her there and grinding deep inside her. He clutched her to him, pressing into her until he groaned, shuddering, satisfied. Merlin gasped, presumably at the feel of his spend leaking into her. Eventually, the prince stopped his grinding and let his head fall onto Merlin’s shoulder. They sat together quietly, unmoving from their position behind his desk. The assassin was intrigued by the fact that they had begun and ended their little show with the prince’s cock simply sheathed inside a warm cunt, unmoving. 

Suffice to say, she was eager to finish the job and get home to Deorwine.

She slipped into the room silently, her throwing knives already halfway across the room by the time she was inside. 

Just as the knives flew over the desk, the prince’s little harlot looked over her shoulder and met the assassin’s gaze unflinchingly. 

The assassin watched as Merlin’s eyes flashed gold, and the knives stopped dead in the air. 

“Shit,” she sighed. In an instant, she had more weapons flying through the air. She darted toward them, iron manacles in one hand, a short sword in the other. But this time, when Merlin’s eyes flashed gold, the assassin stopped dead in the air, too. 

_ Double shit _ , she thought. The assassin felt nothing but dread as Merlin turned back to face the prince, and she still couldn’t move. She had never met a sorcerer so strong, to hold multiple time warping enchantments for longer than a few seconds. She was so fucked.

_ In Camelot? Seriously? _ She complained internally. 

Belatedly, she realised that throughout their little scuffle, Merlin had still not risen from Arthur’s lap. His cock was still lodged firmly inside her. She bit her lip and shifted, the prince’s blue eyes flying shut and his mouth dropping open.

“What would you have me do with her?” the sorceress asked her prince, as if she was whispering sweet nothings instead of discussing the assassin’s execution. Her hips swivelled deliberately, drawing another groan out of the man.

“Dungeons for now,” the prince gritted out. Merlin nodded. She patted his hand on her hip, and with his help, she pulled slowly off his length. They both sighed sadly when his cock finally fell limp from her body. 

The prince was completely unconcerned that the assassin had just tried to kill him. He didn’t glance at her, nor the assortment of weapons dangling in the air like an infant’s mobile. His eyes were fixed firmly on his sorceress, watching her with hunger and adoration. 

When Merlin turned around, the assassin was greeted with the sight of her naked front. Unwilling to deny herself a last meal, as it were, the assassin raked her eyes down the sorceress’ body. The woman was beautiful, lean but strong, confident, tall and long legged. She was just the assassin’s type - or would’ve been, if the assassin was not about to meet death at Merlin’s introduction. 

“Like what you see, hm?” Merlin asked, voice smooth as silk. 

The assassin was powerless. In her line of business, she could not afford to be afraid. Fear was something she had not truly experienced in a long time, but she felt it then. She felt it as Merlin traced a gentle finger down the side of her face, felt it as she smiled coldly. But the assassin could not even move enough to tremble.

“You could’ve just asked if you wanted me, you know,” she said sweetly, “no need to try to kill Arthur.”

“You know very well I’d have to be dead for anyone else to touch you,” Arthur objected.

The sorceress waved a dismissive hand at the weapons, and they fell with a clatter onto the floor. The assassin glanced over at the prince, silently begging for mercy. He caught her eye and grinned languidly. He looked decidedly un-princely, with his prick lying soft out of his pants, hair dishevelled and body completely relaxed into his chair. The assassin resented his blasé attitude. She was  _ dangerous _ , she was!

Merlin casually pried the short sword from her grip and eyed it critically, holding the point up to the assassin’s neck. The assassin desperately looked back to the prince. She took it all back, she was  _ not at all dangerous  _ and never would be again if they just let her go. The prince shook his head.

“You rather ruined our afternoon,” he told her, “Don’t expect any help from me.”

Merlin tossed the sword onto the ground with the rest of the weapons, apparently growing bored of threatening the assassin’s life with her own blade. She was completely terrifying. The assassin would have fallen instantly in love with her if circumstances were different. She watched as the prince’s cum leaked from Merlin’s cunt, trailing down the inside of her thigh. 

Without breaking eye contact with the assassin, Merlin reached down and scooped Arthur’s spend up with her fingers. She brought her fingers to her mouth and sucked the seed off of them, one by one. The assassin averted her eyes to the ceiling. Was this a punishment for all the people she’d killed? To be tantalised with a fantasy that would lead her to her death?

Merlin laughed cruelly, so different from the kind giggles the assassin had heard her gift to Arthur. 

“I hope you enjoyed the show.”

Merlin’s eyes flashed gold.

“It’s the last one you’ll ever see.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
